


About Twelve Pounds

by Amurit



Series: Closer to the Edge [1]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Disordered Eating, M/M, Mostly Canon Compliant, Poor Viktor, Poor Yuuri, Slow Burn, Summer of mutual pining, Viktor and Yuuri being accidental assholes to each other, unbetaed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-03
Updated: 2019-03-03
Packaged: 2019-11-08 20:48:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17988275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amurit/pseuds/Amurit
Summary: It’s a beautiful, late April morning about a week after his little contest, and Victor has realized that he's made a mistake. Somehow, he’s misunderstood something fundamental about coming here -- and about Yuuri himself. He’s not sure yet just where he went wrong, or if it’s something he can fix, but he’s sure that something is off.





	About Twelve Pounds

**Author's Note:**

> So, about the title... Somehow I got through the entire first draft before I realized that both Viktor and Yuuri would be far more likely to use the metric system. xD I corrected it to kilos in the text, but I also got pretty attached to the original title along the way, so I just decided to keep it in the end.
> 
> An extra warning for those who may have missed the tag and be sensitive to this sort of thing - this fic deals, in part, with the topic of fat shaming and disordered eating.

As much as Viktor is enjoying his stay at Yuutopia Katsuki, he has to admit that there are certain drawbacks to living in a hotsprings inn. Some of the reporters who had come to Hasetsu for Hot Springs on Ice linger, and sometimes they try to cajole either he or Yuuri into talking about each other. Viktor is more or less used to the intrusiveness of the press, but he can tell Yuuri isn’t comfortable with it, so he hadn’t been surprised to find that Yuuri was already long gone by the time he made his way out the door for his own, more leisurely, morning ride to the rink.

It’s a beautiful late April morning about a week after his little contest, and Victor has realized that he made a mistake. Somehow, he’s misunderstood something fundamental about coming here -- and about Yuuri himself. He’s not sure yet where he went wrong, or if it’s something he can fix, but he’s sure that _something_ is off.

It’s a weekday, so there’s not much going on near Ice Castle and the ninja house. He closes the door on the warm spring sunshine, waving cheerfully in response to the welcoming smile Yuuko shoots over her shoulder as he passes the counter. Each morning he happily trades the joyous songs of late-courting birds for the sepulchral hush of the rink, where, right now, the only sound is that of Yuuri’s blades crunching on the ice as he practices the step sequence for his short program. He looks over Yuuri’s steps with a critical eye, but there’s honestly nothing to see there that he could do better. 

Yuuri continues the run through, and, as Viktor carefully picks his seat in the nearby stands and begins to lace his own skates, he can tell by Yuuri’s faraway gaze that he is completely absorbed in the moment, in the music coming through his earbuds. Dead to the world in a way that Viktor has discovered he only is when he doesn’t know that anyone else is watching. 

This feeling that something was wrong had started with Eros, of course. Even Viktor has to admit that it had been catty, casting Yuuri in the role of a seducer who takes the heart and virtue of a maiden before inevitably casting her aside and leaving her behind. He had no doubt that his unusually musical Yuuri had understood the story behind the song, but somehow it seemed that Yuuri had misinterpreted the message completely. Instead he’d chosen to turn the whole story on its head and take on the persona of the maiden, seducing her seducer in turn.

Yuuri had also ad-libbed a bit at the end of the program during the competition, and that’s what Viktor really wants to see today. Minako has told Viktor that Yuuri was a dancer before he was a skater, and Viktor has come to realize that all of those last minute choices he’d made about the choreography were significant. 

There were, not one, but two twists that Yuuri had added to the end of the tale. 

The first was having the maiden eventually cast her feckless lover aside, rejecting him before she could be the one rejected. 

He could admit that it stung a bit. Viktor had given Yuuri a program and a question; a picture of their relationship as he’d understood it when he’d come here, trusting that, as another skater if nothing else, Yuuri would understand. Yuuri’s answer had confused him, and now Viktor isn’t quite sure what role he’s meant to play anymore.

While the resultant uncertainty is… novel, if nothing else, Viktor found he hadn’t particularly liked the view of himself from Yuuri’s eyes as he’d stood behind the other man on the podium that day. Was it a warning, perhaps? The maiden may not want her seducer to go, but she would reject him if that was what it took to retain her pride. The seducer did not want to leave his lover behind, but might abandon her because he confused her fear for rejection. 

Honestly, did it even matter which of them was which, when they just wound up apart at the end anyway?

But that was Yuuri’s other surprise, wasn’t it? So subtle that even Viktor, too caught up in the spectacle of the moment, hadn’t even understood what he was seeing until he watched some of the recordings taken from different angles of the rink, later. Now Viktor, having chosen his place more carefully, could see it clearly in person. He watches now, untied laces falling from slack fingers as, after casting his imaginary lover aside, Yuuri kicks off, miming an attempted escape. Then, stopping short, he spins with one arm out as if someone had and caught his wrist to pull him back in, the young lover’s dance ending in a fierce embrace.

Yuuri had given their story a happy ending, after all.

*

It had taken a bit of coaxing to get Yuuri back onto the ice with him once Yura was no longer there to act as a buffer, but once he was there Yuuri was an exceptionally professional and focused student. Still, there are some things they don’t quite agree on. 

They’d been bickering over his exhibition skate recently. Victor insists that Yuuri skate his routine for Stammi Vicino, just like he’d done in the video that went viral. “They’ll expect to see it, Yuuri, and you already know the program, so it saves us time while we work on your free skate.” This is absolutely true, but, Victor admits to himself, it’s what he wants to see. 

It had taken him months to perfect that routine, and it drove him to the limit almost every time he skated it, both emotionally and physically. 

Yuuri, on the other hand, skates it for fun. 

He’s noticed that Yuuri will fall into pieces of it in idle or playful moments when he isn’t thinking so hard about being perfect. Viktor is beginning to wonder if this is the younger man’s way of flirting with him. He doesn’t think he’s imagining interest in the way Yuuri turns to him and reaches out at all the right moments, forward and teasing on the ice in a way he never is off of it. In Yuuri’s hands the song becomes a temptation rather than heartbreak. _Dance with me again,_ his body seems to say, and one afternoon, when practice had gone particularly well and Yuuri was in a very good mood, Victor accepted the invitation.

Yuuri looks a bit stunned when he turns and sees Victor right there beside him, grinning, and he trips over his own feet. Viktor reaches out to keep Yuuri from going sprawling, letting his momentum pull them into a wide spin around their joined hands, a common center of gravity. Then, high on a wild moment of pure joy and inspiration Viktor pulls the smaller man closer and what might have been a fall suddenly becomes a lift.

It’s so easy. Victor knows immediately that it’s one of those moments that he will remember for the rest of his life. He tries to memorize the way Yuuri’s surprise turns into a gentle smile, his eyes lit golden in the sunset light that spills through the tall windows nearby. He will remember the pretty way Yuuri points his toes as he reaches the apex and how he seems to understand instinctively how to shift to help compensate for his own weight. 

The moment stretches, and when Victor finally, reluctantly sets him down they don’t part immediately like he half suspects they will. Yuuri doesn’t nervously skitter away, but moves with him as they fall into the broader steps of the program, not just mirroring but blending their movements like he already knows how, like they’ve already done this dance together a thousand thousand times before.

_Have we_ , he wonders, _in your mind?_

Of course Viktor knows all about Yuuri’s teenage crush; Yuuri is almost the only person in Hasetsu who hasn’t told him all about it at this point.

But as right and beautiful as that moment had been, there’s something bothering Viktor about just how easy that lift was.

*

That evening he eyes Yuuri in the baths with a carefully critical eye. His training clothing is not particularly fitted, and the difference is subtle right now so Viktor hadn’t really noticed it before, but eventually he decides that there’s something going on with Yuuri’s body that bears watching. 

During dinner he watches Yuuri eat surreptitiously; waiting at the table for almost an hour after Yuuri answers a phone call from the little Thai skater and wanders off for some privacy. He never comes back, and his dishes are eventually cleared away, still more than half full.

Yuuri is strikingly aware of his own issues, and he's has mentioned before that he tends to binge eat when he’s stressed. He seems more relaxed now after their conversation on the beach. With no competitions on the horizon, Viktor wonders if, perhaps, the inverse is true? Yuuri is so nonchalant about it that Viktor suspects that he might not even be aware of what he’s doing, and since they’ve just started really getting along, Viktor is wary of bringing it up and alienating him again.

Still, he spends the meals they share over the next couple of days adding up Yuuri’s calorie intake over and over again, even going so far as to install a very annoying and fiddly app on his phone to assist, and eventually he’s forced to admit that what he’s seeing could become a real problem. 

Regardless of the cause, Viktor is Yuuri’s coach now, and it’s his job to address the issue once it’s become apparent. 

He spares a frustrated moment to wonder what Yakov would have done, but when he thinks about it, it’s pretty obvious: Yakov would have yelled a lot. Yelling was Yakov’s solution to everything, and, to be fair, it usually worked. Victor, on the other hand, isn’t very good at yelling, and Yuuri still visibly cringes if Victor so much as gives him a stern look, especially outside of the rink.

…Victor’s pretty sure that Yuuri does not always realize he does that, either.

But Viktor knows how to choose his battles, and he has not become a five time World Champion without learning how to stack the odds in his favor, so he makes a special request of Hiroko that there be katsudon for everyone at the weekly family dinner on their next rest day. 

As he helps serve, placing the steaming bowl in front of Yuuri, the younger man looks up at him with wide brown eyes. His flat stare says he plainly thinks Viktor’s gone insane.

“Um, Viktor... I can’t eat this.”

Viktor, having anticipated some resistance, seats himself beside Yuuri instead of his usual place opposite. He doesn’t think Mari will mind and, sure enough, as she enters with a couple of beers, she just shrugs and hands one off to her smiling father, setting gracefully onto Viktor’s abandoned cushion.

“It’s okay.” Viktor says. “I just realized that I promised to eat katsudon with you if you won Hot Springs on Ice, and we haven’t done it yet.” Of course, Viktor would have preferred to make a proper date of it, but right now he’s counting on the fact that Yuuri doesn’t like to argue with him in front of his family.

Still, Yuuri sighs. “I think I’d rather eat another bowl of broccoli than run this off, Viktor.”

Mari raises an eloquent eyebrow at him over Yuuri’s shoulder, her expression clearly reading _Well, now what, smart guy?_ Viktor is pretty sure that one understands a lot more than she lets on. He ignores her challenging look in favor of taking up Yuuri’s chopsticks and, with artful clumsiness, grabbing a bit of pork cutlet from his own dish. 

He dangles it in front of Yuuri’s lips, and Hiroko gasps and claps, seeming inordinately pleased by this display. Viktor, always one to play to his audience, cups his other hand under the precariously dangling meat, making sure that his fingertips just brush Yuuri’s chin as he does it. 

Yuuri, predictably, turns red and freezes, but after a long, tense moment Mari says something that reeks of wry amusement and makes Yuuri finally sigh and give in, rescuing the food delicately with his teeth. Viktor rewards him with an impulsive, bone-crushing hug that he fully expects Yuuri to claw his way out of like he has every other time that Viktor attempts to initiate any real form of physical intimacy outside of the context of training, but, while Yuuri does not precisely reciprocate, neither does he resist.

Somehow, they both wind up blushing as Yuuri’s mother all but coos at them and his sister and Toshiya laugh softly together.

But Yuuri gets a proper meal for what is probably the first time this week, and Viktor counts the evening as a win.

*

That hug at the table represents a sea change in their relationship, and Viktor finds himself distracted from his worry in the face of the revelation that Yuuri. Will let Viktor. _Touch him!_

Victor is ecstatic, to say the least. 

He sends Yuuri on and off the ice every day with a hug. They walk to the rink together most of the time now, and, despite the growing heat and humidity, he constantly has one arm around Yuuri. Of course, he’s all too aware that this is an enormous step forward, so he tries to be careful to keep things light and silly, and not to let his hands wander or linger too long.

What he doesn’t understand at first is how introducing an element of casual touch into their relationship will also affect those who surround them. 

Those who witness Yuuri’s, admittedly sometimes reluctant, acceptance and return of physical displays of affection are much more likely to touch him themselves. Yuuko greets them both almost every day with a kiss on the cheek now. The old man who runs the local tea shop pats Yuuri’s shoulder one morning in thanks after he was kind enough to rearrange some of the heavier displays for him, and Viktor’s pretty sure he’s never seen anyone in town but Minako or Takeshi do such a thing before.

He realizes with dawning horror that he has inadvertently declared open season on his Yuuri. 

Then one evening while they’re going over training footage together over tea, Yuuri’s mother comes in and clutches her son’s head to her chest, seemingly without provocation, and Viktor realizes that he’s never actually seen Yuuri hug his mother before.

In fact, he’s never seen any of the Katsukis even try to touch Yuuri before now. 

This is confusing. To Viktor, Yuuri seems like the nexus of a web of family and friends who would do anything for him, and Yuuri has told him that the entire point of his skating up to this point has been an effort to repay their faith and kindness in some small measure. 

Hell, even , _Yakov_ had hugged Viktor, and surprisingly often, too, given that he usually professed that he didn’t even like Viktor very much.

While he's mulling over this, Hiroko asks her son to help with some minor household chore and leads him away, so Viktor begins to clear the table. 

This certainly throws Yuuri’s earlier reticence toward him into a different light. It makes things less personal, but more baffling. Granted, when they’d talked that time on the beach Yuuri had mentioned that he did not like people intruding on his space and his feelings, but he’d also framed his family as the exception to the rule.

While he's mulling over this, Hiroko asks her son to help with some minor household chore and leads him away, so Viktor begins to clear the table. He goes to the kitchen, where he finds Yuuri’s father has been watching them from the small interior window.

“I am glad that you have come into Yuuri’s life, Viktor,” Toshiya says, smiling as he takes the dishes from Viktor’s hands and places them in the sink before returning to the stove, where something that smells amazing simmers enticingly. 

Viktor waits, because it seems as if the older man has more to say. Yuuri’s father is not so good with English as his wife and children, so he grasps for heavily accented words, speaking with quiet deliberation. “You make him,” he pauses, brow furrowed waving one hand as if trying to pluck the word he’s looking for out of thin air, “…easier?”

Viktor’s confusion must be obvious, because Toshiya seems to gather his thoughts for a long time before speaking again. “We are very proud of Yuuri, but he was not an easy child to love.”

Victor attempts, and fails, to maintain a neutral expression in the face of this new information. _This can’t mean what it sounds like it does, can it?_

It hits a bit too close to home for Victor, who hasn’t seen his own parents since he was seventeen and as little as he could get away with for years before that. Some of his alarm must show on his face, however, because the older man hastens to clarify, if haltingly. 

“No, no, don’t misunderstand. Hiroko and I, we love both of our children,” He sighs heavily, pausing to stir the liquid in the saucepan. “But Yuuri has always had rules which Mari-chan does not.”

“He was always so independent, even when he was small. We did not know how to help him. We could not comfort him when he was hurt; he would not allow it. So when he finally asked for a puppy we could not deny him. He worked so hard and asked for so little…” He shrugs eloquently, just like Mari. “So we let Viichan make him feel better when we couldn’t.”

“Viichan?” Viktor asks, confused by the use of Yuuri’s mother’s diminutive for him. 

Toshiya gives him wide eyes. “Yes, his dog, Viichan? Does he not speak of him to you?”

Victor shakes his head and the old man sighs heavily. “Viichan was tiny, but he looked a lot like your Makkachin. We keep a shrine for him in one of the back rooms if you would like to see. He passed away right before Yuuri’s big competition last year. We should have waited to tell him.”

“It’s the same with the katsudon, you see? You must love people in a way they can accept."

"There have never been many open paths to Yuuri’s heart; he is hurt easily, so he must protect himself. We all understand this, but I think you are helping him to open up a little. I hope you don’t mind if we sometimes walk a little way along this new path you are laying,” the older man concludes with a soft smile.

Victor looks at the old man, then at the sink full of dishes, not only from their tea, but from preparation for the inn’s dinner service. He walks over to the sink and grabs a sponge, flipping the water on.

When he’s done, he asks Toshiya if he’ll show him how to pack a bento lunch for two.

*

The summer days first lengthen, then wane. Yuuri’s regional is coming up – his first time back to the ice for a real competition, and Viktor watches Yuuri’s attention drift away into another world a few times a day now. 

At this point he’s almost sure that Yuuri is running at a calorie deficit on purpose, which is, frustratingly, the exact opposite of what he’s been told to expect.

Victor makes lunch for them every day, and he’s heartened by the fact that, even though it’s usually terrible, if he sulks and pouts enough Yuuri will eat it. When he hears Lilia has come back to Yakov to help teach Yurio, he gets in touch via text and taps her as a resource for recipe ideas. The woman has been a ballerina her entire life and knows how to keep her angles sharp. They have never been close, however, and Viktor half suspects that she’s trying to sabotage his cooking efforts. Either that or he’s just _that_ terrible at cooking.

He still hasn’t quite mustered the courage to talk to Yuuri about the issue directly.  
It’s just that everything else is going so well. They spend most of their limited free time together now too, wandering through town, playing with Makkachin on the beach, or curled up on Victor’s bed. The night Yuuri brought him the reworked freeskate music he'd never quite made it back to his own room. They’d slept together, or rather, Yuuri had slept while Victor curled cautiously around him, staring at his sleeping face like a lovesick idiot while music still poured on loop through their shared set of earbuds. He’d pretended when morning came that he thought the hair tickling his nose belonged to Makkachin, but he’s pretty sure that Yuuri wasn’t fooled for a minute. 

Still, Yuuri didn’t exactly rush to pull away either.

But that’s as close as Yuuri has let Viktor get, always slipping away the moment before dusk turns to dawn and their casual intimacy can become something more like a proper embrace.

So, while the problem is still present, Viktor thinks that it’s manageable, until one August afternoon when they’ve paused to have lunch and soak in the sunshine one on of the shade-covered benches outside the rink. 

Yuuri is trying to check his twitter feed and Victor’s getting a little too pushy with a piece of egg-white omelet, so Yuuri just pushes his hand away.

“Viktor, stop,” he commands. It’s the same tone Viktor uses on Makka when she decides to chew on his Louis Vuittons.

Viktor just ignores him and whines, much like Makka does to him when he tries to be strict. “But Yuuuuri! I made it just for you!”

“I don’t want it, Viktor.”

“But why!?” Viktor complains. He hasn’t slept very well himself, and not just because he got up early today to make these little turkey wieners in the shape of octopi. His own temper is, admittedly, beginning to fray a little at this point. 

_Things would be going so well, if only I didn’t have to worry about this._

Yuuri's reply is biting and cold, “Maybe because I don’t want you to start calling me a pig again.”  


Viktor flinches as if he’s just touched something hot, or maybe just so cold it feels like burning, and the two of them just stare at each other for a minute. Yuuri almost seems startled by what he said, and Viktor can tell he wants to turn away and pretend it didn’t happen. God help him, Viktor would probably let him, but even as he watches, nonplussed, something seems to tip in the other man’s expression and he watches Yuuri steel himself to glare properly at Victor, who finds himself thinking: 

_Wow, this is one of the bravest things Yuuri’s ever done._

And, somewhat wryly, 

_I guess this means he finally trusts me enough really to argue with me._

And, 

_Viktor Nikiforov, you are an asshole._

“Piggys are cute,” he says, his voice feeble and hesitant, even though he knows that it’s a really fucking stupid thing to say. (Even if it is true.) It’s been months since he’s said it, anyway, and Yuuri had given no indication that Viktor’s teasing especially bothered him at the time! 

…Somehow Viktor hadn’t considered that he might have hurt Yuuri’s feelings. That he might, in some way, be responsible for all this. 

After all, everyone had bothered Yuuri about his weight back then, hadn’t they?

_Well, that doesn’t exactly make it any better, does it?_

Then, of course, Viktor has to try to be reassuring and somehow go and make things worse. “Yuuri, you’re being ridiculous. You’re twenty-three and you fit in clothes that I haven’t worn since I was sixteen!”

“And I plan to keep it that way, Viktor. So can you just," he pauses to flail his hands at the lunchbox sitting on the bench between them, "Stop. I do have _some_ self control you know.”

_Oh._

This probably did look bad from Yuuri’s point of view, like Viktor didn’t trust him not to overindulge without being micromanaged by his coach. Horrified, he tries to explain. “Yuuri, I know that, I was just trying to-”

“It was six kilos Viktor!” Yuuri cuts him off, throwing himself to his feet, and the food goes with him, the clatter and scrape of the tumbling utensils lost beneath his shouting. “Six kilos! I’d just been through the worst fucking four months of my life! And it’s not like I wasn’t already trying to fix it before you showed up.” Yuuri is angry. It’s terrifying, but also weirdly exhilarating to see and a frission of insane lust runs through him at the rough darkness in the younger man’s voice and the heat in his eyes. 

But then he keeps going. “God, sometimes I can’t even…” He yanks at his own hair in frustration. “Can you _please_ just try for once to understand that we can’t all be perfect like you?!”

On the heels of this accusation, Viktor’s own anger rises, fueled by hurt, an emotional whiplash. “No, I can’t understand, Yuuri! You never give me a chance to! You’ve never told me about those four months, have you?” he roars.

They’re both standing now, squared off against each other. More unspoken recriminations dance on Viktor’s tongue. _I waited for you at World’s, but you just gave up._

_Why did you give up? Why did you leave me waiting for you? What could possibly have kept you away from me? Even if you couldn’t skate, you could have at least tried to see me._

_I thought what we had was special._

But Yuuri offers no explanation, just stares at him like he’s looking at a stranger, as if the last two months hadn’t happened. Viktor wonders if the closeness he’d thought was growing between them over the last few months had just been so much wishful dreaming.

Then Yuuri kneels and begins to carefully gather their scattered chopsticks and the remains of their lunch into the two halves of their cute, but now badly scuffed, pink poodle bento box off the concrete. He supposes Yuuri’s right; it’s not fair for anyone else to have to sweep up after the mess they’ve made.

“I’m sorry, Yuuri,” he says instead, reaching for Yuuri’s shoulder, not quite daring to touch. “I wasn’t trying to hurt you.”

Yuuri cuts his eyes at him, still hot with anger but his voice is cold and flat when he says, “Yes, you were.”

*

It’s true, of course. Viktor had felt rejected when Yuuri hadn’t gotten in touch after the banquet, and so he had rejected Yuuri in turn. It had taken him too long to remember the lesson of Eros, and how confusing his first few weeks here in Hasetsu had been. Perhaps it shouldn’t surprise him that Yuuri had picked up on the anger he’d been feeling at the time, but it’s been months now since Viktor forgave him for running away and decided that they would start over. 

Apparently, he and Yuuri had never been on quite the same page about that.

A few miserable days follow wherein they can barely speak to each other, and he watches Yuuri make sharp and angry runs through Eros, refusing to look at his coach when he gives notes, opting to gaze fixedly out the window instead. At least their resentment can fit into that story; Yuuri’s free skate on the other hand, suffers badly from his state of mind, and after one tragically stiff run through Viktor hadn’t asked to see it again.

After that he’d left Yuuri alone with the ice to numb his wounds and gone to visit Viichan’s little shrine instead. He spends a long time sitting on the floor, contemplating the picture of a much younger Yuuri and the adorable miniature poodle that Yuuri had given his name to. 

He thinks little Viichan looks like he might weigh just about six kilos.

*

Later, Yurio texts him a link to a private clip of his new freesake program, along with, _**How’s the pig? Show him for me. I want him to see just how hard I’m going to kick his ass at Rostelecom. ******_

********

Victor texts him back. _**Please don’t call him that.**_ He never shows Yuuri the video.

********

*

********

Viktor still packed lunch for them both the next day, and, after he explained his concerns properly, unemotionally and in as few words as possible, Yuuri ate all of it, with neither complaint nor relish. Viktor hopes it’s an olive branch, an apology, or a promise of eventual forgiveness. In return, Viktor holds his tongue when Yuuri ignores his instructions to make his jumps singles and focus on the choreography during his full program run-throughs.

********

But there is no more playfulness on the ice.

********

Yuuri’s residual anger seems to be good for his jumps, though. He’s absolutely determined to master the quads, even if he injures himself in the process, so Viktor gives in and works him hard, doing his best to channel Yakov in his uncompromising, and often less than sensitive, feedback. 

********

Viktor, however, can demonstrate for his student in a way that Yakov had not been able to do, and he does not hesitate to stretch himself to the end of his stamina in his own reluctance to leave Yuuri alone on the ice. Yuuri, in turn, chases Victor around the ice like it’s a contest, or a battlefield. He certainly has the eyes of a soldier in those moments, always striving for big air and tight rotations, as if he isn’t just trying to copy Victor, but defeat him. He can't help but think that the other Yuri would probably be proud.

********

There are a lot of falls and stumbling step outs, not all of them Yuuri’s, until eventually both words and frustration wear away and a sort of exhausted focus consumes them both.

********

The first time Yuuri properly lands a quad flip they are both so determined not to really look at each other that Viktor almost misses it, but he turns at just the right moment and there it is. Perfect. 

********

Yuuri stops short and just stares at him like he can’t believe what he’s just done, and Viktor, overcome with joy and relief, barrels into him. He holds Yuuri close, spinning and laughing, shouting “You did it!” and other rambling praises in Russian and Japanese and English. Yuuri clings back, borne aloft by his own arms around Viktor’s neck, laughing and still holding on while their wild spin winds down and Viktor finally places him back on the ice with a grin.

********

Yuuri smiles up at him and all of a sudden they’re friends again. 

********

And then he blushes and turns away.

********

Viktor feels himself smile for the first time in days.

********

*

********

Viktor drags him out that night, intending to celebrate. Intending, really, to get Yuuri just drunk enough that talking things out won’t seem to hurt him quite so much as it usually seems to. And maybe Viktor will get just drunk enough to ask for some of the things that he really, really wants but never expects to be given. Maybe they’ll even get drunk enough that the Yuuri from that night at the GPF banquet will make another appearance.

********

Minako tends bar for them for a bit, but, much to Viktor’s disappointment, cuts Yuuri off after just a few drinks, so he stops too in solidarity. It’s probably for the best, because he can tell it’s just enough to get Yuuri a little loose-limbed and bright eyed. When he takes Yuuri’s hand to lead him across the shifting sand, stargazing dizzily on the beach Yuuri does not insist that they go home; in fact he does him one better and presses their shoulders together, sighing wistfully at the sky. 

********

It makes Victor ache, the longing he feels for this man. 

********

They sit down near the train tracks and he brings Yuuri close under one arm to lean against his chest, something warm to wrap around and keep the cool breeze of the late summer evening at bay. Soon it will be autumn, and time to rejoin the larger world. Viktor intends to enjoy their privacy while it lasts.

********

When Yuuri finally speaks he sounds tired. “I’m sorry Viktor.”

********

Viktor blinks down at him, but Yuuri isn’t looking at him, just staring out across the open water. Before he can ask what brought on this sudden change in mood, Yuuri sighs and continues. “I know I’m not an easy person to care for…” He hesitates, words seeming to fail him for a moment or two. “But you do care about me, don’t you?”

********

Viktor is glad that Yuuri is tucked down where he can’t see the wry twist of his mouth, because he can’t help it, and he’s pretty sure Yuuri would misunderstand. It really shouldn't even be a question by this point, full of cautious hope that almost breaks Viktor’s heart. In fact, it's a ridiculous understatement that is already. They haven’t even kissed yet, and Viktor is fairly certain that he'd light himself on fire if Yuuri asked him to. What will it take to get Yuuri to believe it? 

********

Still, he tells himself that it’s a good sign that Yuuri can say it, even if it’s something Viktor is absolutely sure Yuuri wouldn’t do if he weren’t just a little bit drunk and also running on an adrenaline high from having just done something he’d thought was impossible. 

********

Viktor knows those highs, and the impetuousness they bring, all too well. In a way, it’s what had brought him to Hasetsu in the first place. 

********

So he kisses the crown of Yuuri’s head, pressing a smile into the top of his hair before wrapping both arms more fully around him. Yuuri flails a little when Viktor pulls him halfway onto his lap, but he’s weak with sake and Viktor has far more leverage so he gives up pretty quickly. “Of course I do, Yuuri! Haven’t I told you that I like Katsudon more than anything?” 

********

_And I’ll keep telling you that until you believe it. I’ll keep telling you for the rest of our lives if you let me._

********

Yuuri only huffs a quiet laugh, like it’s a joke.

********

And maybe Viktor is experiencing an adrenaline high of his own, or maybe he's just a little more drunk than he thinks, on secrets and the heavy scent of late flowers and Yuuri’s closeness if nothing else, because his reckless tongue chooses that moment to run off without him. “Yuuri, can I tell you a something?”

********

“Sure,” Yuuri breathes indulgently, tilting his head to rest his temple against Viktor’s collarbone.

********

“I’m pretty sure I’m a terrible coach.”

********

Yuuri tenses, then tilts his head back, searching for Viktor’s eyes in the dark. This is obviously not what he expected to hear, but Viktor rushes on.

********

“I know you think that I know what I’m doing because I’m a good skater, but I’m pretty lost here. When I left Russia, Yakov told me that I was too selfish to be a good coach.” Viktor plays with Yuuri’s hair to soothe himself through this confession. “I have no idea what I’m doing, and I’m bad with people… people who aren’t reporters, anyway.” He turns away from Yuuri’s wide, startled gaze, finding it easier to stare at the rising moon while he rambles on. “I break my promises too often and I hurt people sometimes without meaning to. I’m afraid that he was right; that I’m going to ruin you, and you deserve better than that. You deserve the best.”

********

Then Victor holds his breath, waiting for Yuuri to pass judgment on him. Maybe it would be better to know once and for all if Yuuri can accept that his childhood idol isn’t “perfect”, but just as human as anyone else. 

********

But Yuuri doesn’t say anything at first. Instead he curls up against Viktor's chest and presses one ear against it, right above his heart. It seems to Viktor that he’s lost in thought, or perhaps about to fall asleep, and he resigns himself to waiting for an answer, letting himself breathe again while Yuuri seems content to listen to his racing heartbeat.

********

Then, slowly, Yuuri shifts more fully onto his lap, lifts one hand and places it gently there, right where he had been listening, as if he’s trying to soothe a panicky, caged bird. “It’s okay Viktor. It’s not like I’m much of a skater, either, so even if you do “ruin” me, it’s not like it’ll really matter anyway.”

********

Viktor’s first instinct is to object. His second is to tell Yuuri exactly how much and in what specific ways he’d like to “ruin” him, but before he can make a proper decision about what to say next Yuuri smiles at him softly, moving his open hand from over Viktor’s heart to press one finger to his open lips, as if he knows exactly what Viktor is thinking.

********

What Viktor can make out of his expression seems strangely tender. “We’ll be fine, Viktor. We can figure it out together.” And in Yuuri’s eyes that seems to be the end of the matter, something he chooses to demonstrate by unceremoniously curling back into Viktor’s chest. Viktor, stunned, automatically wraps him in a loose embrace. 

********

That’s when Viktor realizes, Oh. We’re a “we” now, aren’t we? 

********

It’s been so long since he was really part of a “we”.

********

They sit together and just breathe for a bit until Yuuri begins wriggling again. Victor sighs, but loosens his grip, thinking that Yuuri wants to get up, but he surprises Viktor again and just throws his leg over Viktor’s thighs, turning so they’re face-to-face while straddling his lap. He presses their foreheads together looking straight into Victor’s eyes. Victor, suddenly awkward and not quite sure where to put his hands, instinctively grabs the smaller man’s hips, splaying his hands around Yuuri’s back to support him. 

********

He tries desperately not to think about how much he likes this, how happy he is and just how much more he wants from Katsuki Yuuri. It only becomes harder to control himself when Yuuri leans in a bit, warm breath on Viktor’s ear making him shiver.

********

“Hey Victor?” Yuuri whispers, a wicked smile in his voice and mischief written in every line of his form. It’s the same teasing tone that the triplets when they're playing around the rink to bait them into chasing them around sometimes.

********

Victor indulges him, trying not to smile. ”What is it, Yuuri?”

********

Yuuri leans in, pressing close all the way down the line of their torsos, definitely teasing him now. Viktor knows he could lean forward just a touch and join them in more than words, more than emotion and intention, but Yuuri’s plainly three sheets to the wind and they’re just not there yet. 

********

Not quite yet.

********

“Guess what I did today?”

********

Viktor loses the battle with his smile. It comes out wolfish and challenging. “What did you do today, Yuuri?”

********

“I did a quad flip!” Yuuri yells, loud enough to set the neighborhood dogs barking as he straightens suddenly and raises his arms to the sky in a dramatic victory pose.

********

Unfortunately, this completely throws him off balance, and when Viktor tries to catch him they both wind up falling forward, landing in a sprawling mess in the sand with Viktor on top. 

********

Up on the hill behind them, a lone man walking down the sidewalk returns his shout in Japanese, mimicking Yuuri's pose. Viktor doesn’t understand what he's saying, but it sounds suspiciously like a cheer, and whatever it is, it makes Yuuri giggle. 

**Author's Note:**

> It's my first time posting my work online, so I'd love to hear your feedback. Thanks for reading!


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